The Cradle Affair: The Real Story
by SushiBomb
Summary: In which Xanxus does what he wants and Squalo is left completely and utterly speechless. Crack in every sense of the word. Result of too much time on tumblr and boredom.


A/N: This dumb story I literally just wrote in like ten minutes on tumblr because of this hilarious ass picture. Please don't think less of me for occasionally being a legitimate dumbass.

There's nothing else to say. Really.

Disclaimer: I don't own Reborn. If I did, this would happen at some point in the series.

* * *

><p>The Cradle Affair: The Real Story<p>

* * *

><p>Squalo walked briskly down the halls of the Varia castle, a stack of potential assassination targets for the squad in hand. The swordsman grumbled in annoyance, pinching the bridge of his nose as he climbed the winding staircase that led to the fourth floor of the massive headquarters, where Xanxus's office was located.<p>

Even though Squalo was the one who had to select, filter through, and ultimately dish out each individual target, save the ones handed down directly from Nono, Xanxus still insisted on seeing every single request or hit that landed in the Varia's mailbox.

After several minutes, Squalo finally arrived at the intimidating double doors that harbored the notorious leader of the infamous Varia assassination squad, shuffling the slightly askew stack of requests into a neat package before walking inside without knocking.

"Voi, Xanxus, I think we've got some big ones this week,"he began as he plucked one particular sheet with big red letters scrawled on top, "Dino personally sent this one over this morning."

"Cavallone needs someone dead?" The boss began idly. Squalo, who was still skimming over the quite hesitant request from the Cavallone boss, and had of course not yet looked up, nodded. "It's rare, but yeah, even that pussy Cavallone needs to occasionally drop some people."

"Whatever, you can handle that one. Next." Xanxus snapped tiredly before taking a long swig from the freshly opened bottle of tequila on his desk.

Squalo scowled deeply at his bosses less than amiable mood and sifted through the stack for a new paper. "And then there's the Fianetti family, they've been having some problems with the…the…Xanxus," Squalo trailed off as he finally looked up.

"Problem, scum?"

Squalo set down the stack of mission requests and rubbed at his eyes disbelievingly.

"Xanxus…are you shitting me right now?" He asked as he walked over to his boss's desk.

"Fuck you asshole. I can do what I want. Now push me. It's my nap time." Xanxus said casually before snapping his fingers. Squalo sighed in frustrated shock as he walked around the expansive desk and gave the large cradle a firm push.

"Well, uh," Squalo began awkwardly, for he was still trying to digest the image of Xanxus lounging in a (extremely undersized) baby cradle without a care in the world. The flimsy wooden carriage was literally splintering under Xanxus's adult weight, but the man ignored it anyway, kicking his booted legs which were hanging over the side of the crib idly as he chugged away at his tequila…much like a big baby.

"If we're done here, I'm just gonna go brief the others on their assignments for the week."

Xanxus shrugged as he reclined his head back. "Whatever."

And with that, Squalo turned to leave, vaguely wondering if perhaps he was dreaming, or, more likely, if Bel had forced Fran into using his illusions to play a practical joke on him.

That thought was abruptly destroyed with the familiar feeling of an empty bottle of tequila shattering against his skull.

"VOIIIII!" He screamed instinctively as he whirled around to express his irritation. But before he could say anything, Xanxus spoke first.

"Oi trash, you didn't say anything about my new cradle." He said, an odd sort of childish disappointment creeping into his tone. Squalo, for the second or maybe third time that day, stared at his boss in disbelief.

"…Excuse me?"

At that, Xanxus cracked an eye open to glare at his second in command. "I said, trash, you didn't say anything about my cradle."

Squalo resisted the urge to smack his forehead.

"What, pray tell, would I fucking say? You're sitting. In a fucking. CRADLE."

Xanxus smirked. "Yeah, but it's a badass motherfuckin' cradle though. Look, I even had them carve two X's on the side, for my name. That little bitch Sawada doesn't have a cradle like this."

"I'm sure he doesn't have a cradle at all."

"Exactly. Because he's a bitch."

Squalo opened his mouth and closed it again. There were literally no words.

"Well, what do you think of it?" Xanxus asked again.

"It's…it's nice, boss." Squalo said before turning to leave as fast as he could.

Just as he was out the door, Xanxus shouted, "And tell that faggot Lussuria to bring me my bottle. I've been waiting for a goddamn eternity."

Squalo turned to look at his boss, his face becoming more and more sullen as the seconds past.

"Bottle. Got it." He said grimly.

"And it better be chocolate milk. Or I'm gonna set that fucking shitty mohawk of his on fire."

Squalo actually did smack his forehead that time.

End.

* * *

><p>:D I'm speshul guise. Bye now lol<p> 


End file.
